


Be Careful What You Pray For

by Vaerin



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's, Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 05:38:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7495968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vaerin/pseuds/Vaerin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long hunt, the Winchesters decide to take a much needed rest.  Although they only wanted a day, a rumbling storm outside is holding the town hostage.  With nothing better to do, the boys each do what they do best.  Sam, busy with the massive library, finds his brother playing a game... and Gabriel just can't resist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Night

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, the title sucks. I know, I know. I literally just thought of it when I got to that spot... yesterday. Yes, I hate the freaking internet! I spent literally half an hour trying to post this last night. The internet kept 'not responding'. I nearly bashed up my laptop in every way I could possibly think of. Anyway... I'm sorry I haven't gotten my stories back yet, I'm hoping to do that today. This is a 'I'm sorry I'm such an idiot, please forgive me' fic. I thought you guys deserved a little something for your patience... and I thought the idea was cute. Enjoy! Until next update, Cupcakes! X3

The night was busy, filled with night creatures and blood. Sam and Dean Winchester try and keep that at a minimum. The two are hunters, born and raised to kill the things that go bump in the night. Along the way, however, they made a few unconventional friends. Among them are an angel named Castiel and an archangel-turned-trickster named Gabriel. Unfortunately, Gabriel is more a trickster than an angel. He's had them chasing their tails more than once, directing them around for his own amusement. If the jokes weren't on Dean, he'd be laughing beside him. With their help, they've managed to cut down evil and give humans a better chance at life. Tonight, though... tonight they were on their own. It should've been easy, just a couple salt and burns. Too bad life is never easy for Heaven's favorite unwilling soldiers. Instead of ghosts, they were blindsided by vampires. They ended up winning, but not without injury.

“Ouch, damn it!” Dean hisses.

“Sit still,” Sam frowns. “I can't get it out if you keep moving.”

“How many more?” the older brother whines.

“... We're almost done.”

“Liar.”

Dean crosses his arms over his chest, letting Sam get back to the wood slivers in his back. The brothers couldn't be more different. Dean, the impulsive hothead, has vivid green eyes and short brown hair. His brother, on the other hand, is far too patient. His hazel eyes squint in concentration, long dirt blonde hair pulled back for the moment. He's trying to remove large slivers from Dean's back, the tweezers almost too small for him to manage. He's a very tall man, his brother much shorter, yet he's also the one better at these tasks. When he pulls out the last piece, he pulls out some alcohol and bandages.

“Just have to clean the wounds,” Sam states.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean yelps. “That fucking hurts!”

“Then next time, don't let a vampire pile-drive you into a tree!” Sam bites out. “You could've been killed!”

“But I wasn't.”

In return, Sam squeezes one of the larger wounds. Dean curses under his breath, yet doesn't say anything more on it. He'll only get worse. Sam wipes some antibiotic on the cuts, wrapping Dean's chest with a bandage, and then moves away. They're covered in bruises and small cuts, Dean's back being the worst of it, but at least they won. After a few days' rest, they should be ready for another job.

Footsteps in the hall alert them to another. This isn't the bunker, but a safe house, so people can still enter. If a vampire followed them here, the only thing stopping their entrance is wards and spells. Sam looks to his brother, who seems relaxed and content. This isn't how he would react to a threat, so he can only assume Castiel has arrived. The two get up and head toward the front door. As he thought, Castiel is studying a picture on the wall.

“Hey, Cas!” Dean grins. “I didn't think you were stopping.”

“I had to,” Castiel frowns. “There's a storm gathering... a big one. I won't be able to drive without accident, so I stopped here.”

“A storm?” Sam comments. “The weatherman didn't say anything about a storm.”

“Because it's not natural. It's being caused by a supernatural creature. They're not harmful, just doing their job. It'll end in a few days... or weeks. I wouldn't go outside before it ends, though.”

The two brothers nod their agreement, turning back to the room they vacated. Sam had feared as much. When Dean gets bored, he starts looking for a cure... and that typically leaves the two of them locked in a war. If he gets itching powder in his clothes again, he'll have one less brother. Eager to get away from his mischievous sibling, Sam hurries off to the small study. There are enough books in there to keep him busy for a few days. Although Dean watches him leave, he heads for the kitchen. Castiel is never far from him, following without even thinking. The trio has been together for a long while, so they move around one another automatically. Dean is hungry and Cas knows that's why they're in the kitchen. He also knows that Dean starts baking when he's bored, which means he'll be making pie. They gather ingredients, passing each other as though locked in a dance.

“How are you holding up, Cas?” Dean asks.

“I'm fine,” the angel answers. “My grace is harder to find than I first thought, but I'm sure I'll find a lead soon.”

“I hope so,” he murmurs. “Can you get me the pie pan from that cabinet?”

Without another word, he does as asked. The two begin to make a pie, words lost and unnecessary. This comfortable silence is familiar, welcomed, and they're loath to let it go. When the pie is in the oven, they head to the living room. Dean grabs Sam's tablet on the way, humming to himself as he turns it on. With the older Winchester preoccupied, Castiel wanders over to the study. Like Sam, he shares a love of reading. Having the trio's focus elsewhere, they don't feel the extra pair of eyes watching them.

As night falls, Sam rejoins Dean in the living room. His attention is still caught by the tablet, an expression of deep concentration on his face. Sam sighs and sits in the recliner, diagonal from the couch. He picks up the remote to turn on the television, yet can't find it in him to do so. The only time Dean's had that much concentration is during a hunt.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Playing a game,” Dean answers. “Where's Cas?”

“Sleeping. The drive took more out of him than he thought it would. He probably won't get up until tomorrow morning.”

“I knew he was lying. He should be looking for his grace...”

“And I'm sure he would if he weren't avoiding a massive storm.”

“I wish we could help him more.”

“I know, man, I know. I want to help him, too.”

“... I would do anything to save him.”

The comment is so quiet Sam almost misses it. When hazel eyes lock on his brother, he can see the suffering there. Dean can't lose Castiel, not again... not permanently. His bond with the angel goes deep, deeper than they thought. The only person that doesn't seem to notice, is Dean himself. With a sigh, Dean goes back to his game. Those eyes, however, have gained a glint of mischief. Dean wants to save Cas, so... he'll get the opportunity. Those opportunities don't come without payment, of course, which is exactly why he's getting it.

The lights flicker around them, both boys tense and ready for battle. They grab the nearest weapons, moving to the middle of the room and standing back to back. Nothing is going to get the jump on them, not this time. When they go out completely, it's like the switch is connected to their minds. Both Winchesters fall to the floor unconscious.

When they open their eyes, they find themselves outside an abandoned building. Dean seems to recognize it, gulping audibly before moving away. When Sam doesn't follow, he reaches out to help him. That's when someone emerges from the building. They're dressed in a waiter's outfit, the logo of the building on the breast pocket. The Winchesters stay wary, watching their every move. The young man stops a good distance away, smiling in a feigned welcome reserved for unpleasant customers.

“Hello, welcome to Fazbear's Pizzaria,” he greets. “I'm here to deliver a message to Dean Winchester. Might one of you be who I'm looking for?”

“I'm Dean.”

“A friend of yours wished for this message to be delivered,” he comments. “I'm to tell you that the opportunity you wished for has arrived. On night five, you'll find what you so desire. All you have to do is survive long enough to defeat the evil here. You'll find what you want with purple man. Good luck.”

He disappears right where he stands. Sam glances over at his brother, who's about to bolt. Knowing he would never let Sam face death alone, the taller male starts on his way inside. Dean shouts and begs, but eventually enters. The doors slam shut behind them, a sliding lock the noise of their end. Side by side, they walk around the empty halls. Each shadow has Dean on edge, green eyes darting about. An office sits untouched, and this is where Dean stops. Sam sits on a swivel seat, gazing upon some monitors mounted on the wall.

“Where are we?” he asks.

“Inside the game,” Dean whispers. “Five nights at Freddy's.”

“... Seriously?” Sam snorts derisively.

“It's harder than you think,” the older brother huffs. “Especially night three... damn fox.”

Sam shakes his head, pulling a second chair out for his brother. Dean doesn't sit, fixed upon the monitors as though bewitched. From what they can see the animatronics are still standing on a stage. Already bored, Sam picks up a book from the floor. It was holding a small table steady, but it doesn't seem to need it anymore. Flipping it open, he starts to read. Dean, however, lets his eyes trace each camera. One of the cameras flicker... and the chicken is gone. He sucks in a sharp breath, quickly searching for it. It's standing in the middle of a large party room.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean murmurs. “Sam, get ready to hit that button.”

“What button?” he wonders.

“The one to shut the damn door. Come on, man, work with me.”

“Why are you spazzing?” Sam frowns. “It's just a stupid game.”

“It's a stupid game that I've died in for the past two weeks!” Dean bites out. “I will _not_ die here when there's a chance it'll be permanent! Now get ready to push that fucking button!”

Sam, wide-eyed and unnerved, moves closer to the button. He watches as Dean stares at the cameras, one hand inches from another button. The chicken appears in a hallway, his brother flipping that switch. To his surprise, the chicken is outside their room. As it looks in through the window, Dean dives for Sam's button. The taller male pushes it, closing the door and blocking the chicken. Before his brother shuts off the light, saving what little precious power they have, he gets a chance to study the animatronic. It's battered and falling part, sharp teeth filling its beak, and its large eyes send a creepy shiver down his spine. He's saved when the light turns off.

“Keep that damn door shut until I tell you to... son of a bitch! The fucking rabbit is gone!” Dean hisses.

He turns the light on Sam's side on and off a couple times. When the chicken is gone, he signals for the door to be open. All the while, his eyes scan the monitors for the missing rabbit. The chicken is back in a large party room, the rabbit showing up in a hallway... and then the bear is off the stage. A bead of sweat forms on Dean's temple, the other showing signs of stress only Sam can catch. He moves his body closer to his brother, hoping to calm him somewhat, and starts to watch the screens. In their long history of hunts, two heads were always better than one. The bear appears in a hall, the two hitting the lights. It's on Dean's side this time, the rabbit on Sam's. Both of them hit the doors, shutting off the lights to conserve energy. A couple flickers and the animatronics are gone.

It seems like an eternity of blurry images and hitting buttons, but finally Dean sighs in relief. A clock on the table turns to 6:00 am, a chime going off. It's like a trigger for the older Winchester, nearly melting to the floor as his muscles relax. When there's a sound outside one closed door, he has a hand on the gun in his waistband. Sam's brows dip in confusion, realizing their weapons are still on them. With a quiet hum, he turns his attention to the door. Dean hits the button to open it, gun at the ready. The young man from before is there, that same smile on his lips.

“Congratulations, you survived night one,” he offers. “Only four more to go. You'll be happy to know, during the day your services aren't needed. You'll be returned to your safe house, but be careful... the night begins at 12:00 am. You'll be summoned around that time, so be ready.”

Before they can question the young man, he raises a hand to wave goodbye... and snaps his fingers.


	2. Fright Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night one is over and Sam is on the defensive. Reading up on everything he can about the storyline, he makes a very important realization... they're not trapped in that office. Although he's eager to push the envelope, like the two so often are, Dean is more wary. They've dealt with Gabriel before and he doesn't know the rules he's playing with. The last thing he wants is to make it worse. There are other animatronics, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I just posted, but I'm extremely bored. I've been off work since last week and I'm dying here! Medical reasons, it sucks. I can't wait to go back. Anyway, chapter two is all yours! Until... maybe tomorrow... Cupcakes! X3

The two wake up on the living room floor, Dean already steaming. He knows from that little snap exactly who they're dealing with. Loki has surfaced once again to ruin their lives. As he paces in an attempt to still his rage, Sam notes he's still holding the book from the game. He lifts it up and opens it, skimming the words he didn't really pay attention to before. With a sly smirk on his lips, Sam stands up and faces his brother.

“You've played that game before?”

“Duh, what do you think I've been telling you?” Dean huffs. “I've been playing it for two weeks now!”

“How far have you gotten?”

“Night five,” he comments. “There's a sixth night, though. Golden Freddy shows his ugly face and kills you. I'm pretty sure there's no way to beat him, but I only know what I've read about that one.”

“And you never leave that room?”

“Nope. Why?”

“We were just there, Dean,” Sam points out. “We were there and we could leave the room if we wanted. If we can leave the room, what's keeping us from facing them head on?”

“Uh... the fact they'll kill us and shove our dead bodies into an animatronic suit,” he frowns. “I'll be damned again if I'm spending my eternity in a bunny suit!”

Sam shakes his head and sighs. They rarely see eye-to-eye on attack plans, but it's never stopped him from being ready. They agree to sleep in shifts, that way one of them is ready should they be summoned. While Dean gets some rest, Sam pulls up any information on the game he can find. He even plays it a couple times to gather the line-up.

Around lunch is when the first movements in the house start. Castiel is finally awake, walking into the living room to find the two brothers. Outside the rain has begun, winds throwing large droplets against the house violently. He gazes out the window at the darkened sky a moment, studying the clouds above. When he hears nothing from Dean or Sam, he turns his attention to them. Sam is engrossed in something on his tablet, Dean out cold on the couch.

“What's going on?” he wonders. “Dean rarely sleeps this late. Did you two chance a hunt last night?”

“No, not really,” Sam sighs. “We think Loki is being an ass again. We were thrown into a video game last night. Apparently, it has five or six nights of play, so we're on guard for the next session. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes,” he comments, sitting beside the taller male. “Are you sure it was Gabriel?”

“Oh yeah, not a doubt in my mind. The only question I have, is why he insists on pissing us off. We are aware how to kill him, we're two of the most dangerous hunters in the world, and we're probably the only ones that can pick him out of a crowd. It's not exactly good for his survival.”

“No, it isn't. But he's never been a very careful angel. In fact, I hear he went out of his way to anger his older brothers. He's an instigator, it's in his nature. He just can't help himself. Besides, he's got a rather unhealthy crush on you.”

“What!” Sam gapes in shock. “You're kidding.”

“I don't think I'm very good at kidding, so I rarely do so,” Castiel points out. “This is one of those topics I'm not comfortable enough to joke about. All the angels are talking about it. They've been hearing rumors from the Asgardians. Ever since he met you two, he can't stop talking about you. And he's rather fond of Dean as well, just... not like that. He sees Dean as more of a brotherly figure... someone he can destroy the world alongside. Or, at least, create a hell of a lot of chaos.”

“... Perfect,” Sam mutters. “I don't suppose he'll come talk to me about it.”

“No, probably not right now. He'll wait until after his entertainment is done.”

“He better pray that 'entertainment' doesn't lead to either of us dying, or that talk won't go even close to how he wants.”

“I'm sure he won't let anything happen to the two of you. On the off chance something does, however, I doubt I have to tell him the repercussions.”

Sam sighs and grumbles beneath his breath, reaching over to wake Dean. It's his turn to keep watch. As he rouses, Sam moves him off the couch. The second he lays down, he's out and Dean is left to wake himself up. Castiel is watching him, making sure he manages to sit on the chair and not the floor. With a deep stretch, Dean glances at the notes Sam's been taking. They're rather in depth, including each animatronic's movement schedule and the layout of the building itself. Open on his laptop is a summary of the background story, the notes pointing out the possible salt and burn. That was one of the first thoughts Dean had when playing, yet realized the bodies are literally in the suits. It's an idea he quickly put aside.

“Sam said you're being assaulted by Gabriel again.”

“Yeah,” he bristles. “I'm gonna burn that little bitch when I get my hands on him.”

“You might think differently at the end of all this,” Castiel offers. “He's usually trying to help when he does stuff like this.”

“Helping is pointing us in the right direction,” Dean says. “Or handing us a map. Hell, helping us is him giving us a piece of advise! What he does isn't help, it's hurtful and potentially fatal. I like myself too much for him to kill me!”

“He won't kill you, Sam would be angry with him.”

“Why the hell does he care of Sam thinks?”

“... I'll let Sam tell you that part,” Castiel utters nervously. “I don't like when you're angry at me and if I tell you, you'll be angry with me.”

Dean decides it's not worth the argument, standing up to get something to eat. Thankfully, he pulled his pie out of the oven before they were attacked. That alone would warrant Gabriel's death. Assuming Castiel is following him, Dean is confused when he notes he's alone. Castiel is still in the living room, eyes staring out the window. He didn't expect the storm to be this bad, the hunter suddenly glad his angel stopped in.

A loud crack of thunder follows the brightest lightening he's ever seen. It's almost deafening, causing Sam to jolt from his slumber as Dean jumps. It takes a moment, but soon the taller Winchester is dozing once more. Dean makes a sandwich and rejoins Castiel in the living room. It's quiet again, but not that comfortable silence they typically fall into. Dragging a couple seats over to the window, they sit down together.

“We'll be summoned to that game again tonight,” Dean sighs out.

“Is it truly that bad?”

“Give me a second and I'll show you.”

Castiel holds Dean's sandwich while he gets the tablet. As he returns, he presses a few buttons. They trade items and Castiel stares at the screen in confusion. Suddenly, the bear jumps at him from the doorway. He sucks in a sharp breath and topples backward out of his chair, leaving Dean laughing. As he regains his composure, he places the tablet on the table and takes his seat once more.

“That was terrifying,” he murmurs. “You saw them?”

“They were just about as close as we are,” Dean shrugs. “They're worse in the flesh... so to speak. I could smell the death that clings to them.”

“You aren't going back, are you?”

“I didn't want to go in the first place,” Dean scoffs. “Sam went in first, I wasn't gonna leave him there! Now we're trapped in that fucking place until we bite it.”

“Or win.”

“Cas, no one ever wins in that game,” Dean frowns. “The first one is a death wish. There _is_ no way to win. After the five days are up, you get thrown into a sixth day. That sixth day, Golden Freddy kills you. You can't beat Golden Freddy, because they're working under the illusion you're the killer and Golden Freddy is you first victim. Like... the killer is trapped in a nightmare where his victims hunt him. It's fitting for the fucking murderer, but not us. Okay... we're kind of murderers, too. But we would never... I'm just gonna stop before I say something I'll regret.”

“You and Sam don't have to play by the rules if Gabriel didn't specify it,” Cas provides. “And really, this game is little more than your job in a computer. It's a large scale hunt. You and Sam just have to treat it like one.”

“I've faced down a thousand horrors, Cas, but this is one I don't want to face. A typical salt and burn has us in a graveyard after hours, digging up a rotted corpse that doesn't move. And it's usually one at a time. There are five monsters in that place, that we know of. There are more in the other games. Not to mention, they fucking move! And they can kill us! I'm not tussling with a metal suit when I couldn't even beat a fucking tree, man.”

“There are more?”

“You bet your ass there are more. And if we start playing off the book, that maniac trickster is gonna do the same! Which means we'll be facing the whole lot of them. No thank you!”

“Dean... I don't want you to go back there,” Cas says quietly.

The hunter can't say much to that, as he doesn't want to go back either. This isn't a choice, though. He reaches over without thinking, holding Castiel's hand tightly. He can feel the tremor in that callused hand, gripping him just as tight. They watch the rain pouring down outside, the hunter setting aside his food. The conversation has made him lose his appetite. They sit there, pretending they're not bothered by the information. Those eyes that watch them so attentively, have gained a softness to them they rarely show. That isn't going to stop the fun, it just changes it a bit.

When Sam wakes near dinner, Dean has already fixed them something. He's gazed the notes and studied the story, yet Sam has always been the better at study. After a few minutes, Dean lost interest and wandered off. Castiel, however, didn't. He's been reading through all of Sam's information astutely. That's how the taller male finds him. Dean brings out a couple plates, returning to get one for Sam as well. When they're all seated and eating, Sam realizes the tenseness around them. It's suffocating, the knowledge of their future hunt, and it's making his stomach turn.

“We'll be ready for it this time,” he says. “I've packed a bag already, we can do this.”

“Sam, I don't want to play off the rules,” Dean sighs. “If we stop following the rules, so will that prick. There are just too many for us.”

“We'll be fine,” Sam presses. “Gabriel isn't going to kill either of us.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because apparently he's in love with me,” the taller blurts out.

“................. I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that,” Dean murmurs.

“It could be worse... Crowley could be in love with me.”

“.................. And now I've lost my appetite again.”

Sam rolls his eyes and finishes his food, glancing over at Castiel. The other has been oddly quiet. He hasn't touched his food, just staring down at his plate. Sam can guess what his issue is, as he can see it every time they're sent into harm's way. He can't, for the life of him, understand why Castiel hasn't said anything to Dean. Normally, it's not his place to push the two. It's their business what they do about their bond. This time, however, he's sorely tempted to point it out. The only thing that keeps his mouth shut, is the fact it won't make his situation look any better. With a soft sigh, he glances over to his notes. When he's about to leave the table, Dean speaks up.

“There are more,” he says quietly.

“More? More what?”

“Animatronics. There are more in that building. If we face them, he'll let them all out.”

“Then we should plan for them all.”

It's said so as-a-matter-of-fact it surprises Dean. With that out of the way, Sam starts going through his game plan mentally. Dean knows the game, they both know how to stop them, now they just have to put it in motion. They wait quietly, nerves getting more frazzled by the second. Castiel is next to Dean, blue eyes filled with worry. The clock chimes midnight... and the two are gone.

They're back in front of the building, Sam with bag in hand. Again, the young man walks out to greet them. The hunters are already tired of his sickly sweet smile. When he stops in front of them, he eyes the bag in Sam's hand. There's a moment of hesitation, and then he's back on track.

“Night two,” he states. “Good luck, guys. Oh, and... try not to leave the security room. Golden Freddy likes to roam the halls as well. Wouldn't want him getting a hold of you.”

“Yeah, that would be rather bad for the asshole that keeps zapping us here,” Dean grinds out.

“I have to say, I don't think I could love anyone that would knowingly place us in a dangerous situation,” Sam adds thoughtfully.

“... You're playing dirty,” the young man frowns.

“I'm just getting started,” Sam smirks.

“Your _friend_ is only trying to help.”

“Friends don't try to kill friends,” Dean mutters. “And this time, you started it, so don't complain, _Loki_.”

“ _You're_ the one that asked for help in the first place, so don't get pissy with me because I'm the only one that answered!” the young man, now outed as Loki, spits out. “Next time, make your prayers more directional. You never know who's going to answer when a name isn't added.”

With that, he's gone and the two are left outside the pizzeria. Sam sends Dean a questioning look, yet all he can do is shrug. He doesn't remember praying for any help. That's when it hits him... he wanted to help Castiel. This game could be the only thing standing between Cas and his Grace. Sam can see the moment of realization and the moment he steels his resolve. He smirks happily, knowing Dean will be much more willing to go along with his plan. They enter the building and head to the security room. On the way, Sam gets flashes of the words 'it's me' scrawled in blood. Pictures of crying children appear every now and them, the laughter of children hanging in the back of his mind. These are all illusions from the game, he knows that much.

When they enter the room, Dean takes up the swivel seat. He watches the monitors closely, making sure the animatronics are still in their spots. Sam hands him a headset, putting one on himself, and then exits the room. Although it takes everything he has not to pull him back, Dean trusts his brother and lets him roam. His job is to watch the screens and tell Sam where the others are. It takes a long time for the first to disappear. When the chicken is gone, he's calling for Sam. He arrives not much longer, spilling salt in the doorways as an added precaution.

“You got the other doorways?” Dean wonders.

“Almost all of them,” he offers. “I missed a couple by the stage, but I got the ones closer to us. Hopefully it'll work.”

“Look, Chica isn't moving from the party room.”

“... You know it's name?”

“Dude, don't judge me! Look at the fucking chicken!”

“I salted the doorways that enter the party room,” Sam points out. “It looks like it can't pass them.”

“He could be messing with us,” Dean frowns.

“He better not be, or he can kiss his chances with me goodbye.”

“... You're seriously thinking about dating him? Come on, man, you deserve better than that.”

“I'm fond of him,” Sam shrugs. “Maybe I'm just a glutton for punishment.”

“People call that 'masochistic',” Dean points out. “Either that, or 'bitch'. Are you gonna wear a dog collar, too? I hear they're not as uncomfortable as people think...”

“I don't want to know how or where you 'heard' that from,” Sam snorts derisively. “Let's just worry about these animatronics. I'm gonna get closer to them, just to test the salt barrier.”

“I'll do it,” Dean presses.

“No, Dean, let me. He wouldn't dare hurt me.”

“Exactly.”

With that pointed out, Dean darts from the room. Sam cries out in shock and panic, leaning out of the room. The realization that he's Dean's eyes has him back at the monitors. That chicken is still staring at the camera, trying to look through his soul. Sam shivers at the thought. Dean's figure hurries down a hallway, the taller barely catching him on camera, and then he's at the party room. Always brazen, Dean steps over the salt line and walks a few feet into the room. Sam hardly notes the movement in the shadows before it's too late.

“Dean! Something's behind you!” he says in panic.

Dean turns on camera and gasps, jumping back when something attacks him. He dodges the bunny, rolling on the tiled floor and almost into a table. Chica is on the move, the two rushing after the fresh meat. Dean yelps, hightailing it to an area he can watch the two of them. Sam cries out again when something else moves near his brother. The bear is there, ready to grab hold of him. The older Winchester barely slips through his grasp. He's running for the hall now, all three in tow. Forgetting which hall he entered from, Dean just picks one. Sam smacks his face, realizing he just went down the wrong hall. Taking a calming breath, he starts calling directions. Thankfully, Dean isn't panicked enough to ignore him. He follows the directions to a 'T'. just before the security room, he dives over a line of salt. All three animatronics slam into an invisible barrier.

“Yahtzee!” Dean calls out in relief.

“Are you okay?” Sam wonders, voice carrying down the hallway.

“It worked! They can't pass the salt line.”

“Thank god you're okay. Get your ass in here before I have a heart attack!”

Dean jogs closer, entering the room. Something in the darkness moves, stopping his heart cold. A little boy animatronic holding a sign walks up, his other hand grasping balloons. He giggles and stops before Dean, the lights flickering in his presence. That moment has Dean making a rather petrifying connection... the fox hasn't shown up yet. He darts into the room and scans the monitors for the damn creature. Something moves from the curtains and Dean rushes for the door button. Sam, on the other hand, grabs for their bag. When Dean closes one door, he turns... to see the fox running toward the other. He silently curses in his mind, closing his eyes to the impending doom. Sam throws out one hand, sending a splash of holy water onto the fox. It cries out in a garbled mess of electronics, stepping away to cover its face. Sam checks the salt barrier, glad to see it's still in tack, and shuts the door.

“You two don't know how to play fair, do you?” a voice wonders from behind them.

“Sam, give me the holy oil!” Dean bites out, lighter in hand.

“Whoa, hang on there, Dean-o,” Gabriel states, hands in the air defensively. “I didn't set them on you, you know. It's the game. I put you in here, but they've already been programmed.”

“I was almost killed, you piece of shit!”

“I've been watching,” the trickster says, affronted. “Do you honestly think I'd let something bad happen to my favorite hunters?”

“Yes,” they say in unison.

“I'm hurt,” he states in a feigned tone. “Look, I didn't know your little hunter tricks would work, okay? The programmer didn't know about all that shit. Thankfully, they do! So you can probably set all the souls here free... that want to be set free.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Sam questions.

“The souls of the murdered children are here, Sammich, but... so is the soul of their killer. I'm sure you read all over the information to this place, so you should already know. But, I'll tell you anyway. I know Dean got bored a few minutes after he started. The spirits haunted their killer, eventually forcing him into a suit that was still in testing. It's supposed to close around the person in it. Unfortunately, the flaw in the suit was fatal. He was crushed in the suit, set to rest just like the little children he killed. So sad, and yet... so ironic. I couldn't have planned it any better. Point is, he's still roaming about. He doesn't want to be saved, he wants to continue killing.”

The clock turns over to 6:00 am, time having passed much faster than they thought. At the chime, Gabriel's form goes blurry and the two sink to the floor. They can barely make out the quiet 'congratulations' he gives them, watching his fingers snap. Two nights survived, three more to go.


	3. Fun at Freddy's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barely surviving the night, the brothers are tossed back in their living room. Cas watches over Dean while Sam gets to planning their next attack. As he rummages about his room, however, he realizes he's no longer alone. Gabriel has made his appearance. And what's this? He actually has a reason for tormenting the Winchesters? Is it really worth risking their lives?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm officially the dumbest person I know ^^; I was trying to open my screen saver file marked 'supernatural' through my word program. So... problem solved! It's a miracle! Anyway, I haven't written the entire next chapter to Eden yet. You'll have to wait a little longer for that one. On a brighter note, I did manage to locate this fic in my files. Which has 5 chapters instead of 2! Yea!!!!!!! A fic to wet your appetite while I work on the others! Another miracle! I'm just full of them tonight, lol. Well, until the next update, Cupcakes! X3

Castiel is waiting impatiently for the two to return. When they finally do, he's on them fast enough to make their heads spin. Dean is covered in sweat, his shirt damp with it. That's enough for an injury check. As he moves around the dazed hunter, Sam has to scoot out of the way. He knows better than to get between the two, he'll only get stepped on. That, or he'll get that terrifying look Cas can give. Probably doesn't even know he's giving it. With a sigh, Sam gathers up some of the things he managed to grab hold of. Just as he's grabbing the bottle of holy water, Dean comes around. He assures Cas he's fine, and looks over to his brother.

“Do we know where the water tank is?” he wonders.

“Why?”

“We can bless the water and hit them with the sprinklers. It won't take them out, but it'll slow them down,” he offers. “If not for the salt and holy water, we would've been killed. You know that, right? That fox is a fucking ninja.”

“I'm gonna have to agree with you,” Sam sighs. “We got lucky. We can't afford moments like that again. I'll look into the layout a little more while you sleep, okay? There has to be a way to figure this all out.”

“I say we burn it to the ground,” Dean offers. “That's what happens in the last game... well... then they're making another game. So... maybe we should show them how its done.”

“I'll pack the bags, you take a nap.”

He nods in agreement, taking up the couch once more. Castiel sits on the floor beside his head, unwilling to let the other out of his sight. Sam shakes his head as he climbs the stairs, a minute smile on his lips. He hopes they'll realize their feelings soon, or he's gonna burst. This type of thing can't stay bottled up for long. The tall male enters his bedroom and rummages around in the closet for a few things. A crackle of electricity has his hair on end and he sighs in irritation. Turning to face the source of that irritation, hazel eyes are most definitely not happy to see them. Gabriel is seated upon the bed, a huge grin on his face. When he only gets a glare in answer, he has the mind to appear sheepish.

“Why are you doing this?” Sam asks softly, though laced with venom.

“I'm helping you,” Gabriel offers. “You... and a few others.”

“You almost killed him!”

“He's a Winchester, he's not living unless he's almost killed,” he waves off. “Besides, I was monitoring you guys the whole time. I wouldn't let you die on my watch, what sort of idiot do you take me for? You two are _way_ more important than a couple apocalypses.”

“When you have feelings for someone, normal people typically give flowers,” Sam growls out.

“I thought about that, but it seemed so... boring. This is _way_ better! You and Dean get to hunt, I get to help, and everyone is happy in the end!”

“How _exactly_ are you helping us?”

“Well... I'm mostly helping Dean, I just didn't want him playing unsupervised. That would've been a mess, that mark of his and all,” Gabriel answers thoughtfully. “He wants to find Cassy's Grace, I can help him do that. But... he's not the main person I'm helping, Sam.”

“... What do you mean?”

“When that game was created, its electronic signal crossed with a few spirits. The spirits of children are _literally_ trapped in that game. I'm only allowed to do so much, I couldn't think of another way to free them. You and Dean were all I had. I'm sorry if you're upset about it, but... I didn't know what to do.”

“You could've _asked_ ,” Sam sighs in exasperation.

“... I always forget I'm allowed to do that,” he mumbles, cursing himself. “People don't usually want to help the trickster I've become. Even the angels tends to steer clear, though that's always a welcome relief.”

“Look, you know you can always come to me and Dean,” Sam offers. “We'll help any way we can, but just ask first. You throwing us into shit like this... it really kills your relationship with Dean. If you can't get back on his good side, there won't be an 'us'. You get me?”

“... You're totally into me,” he says in awe.

“You got that last part, right?” Sam frowns. “If you can't get Dean to play nice, it's not happening.”

“I can't wait to tell everyone my husband is a hunter!”

“Whoa, wait, what?” Sam gawks. “How in the hell did you make that jump?”

“I'm so excited! I'm gonna start with Asgard!”

“Wait, Gabe...”

He's gone before Sam can get out the name, the hunter palming his face. Either the trickster's personality will kill him, or his attempts at play will. Either way, that man will be the death of him. With a sigh, he starts packing a bag for the pizzeria. In the back of his mind, the conversation still echos. It reminds him of the reason he's going back to that place. Those poor children need to be set free. If anything, he can do it for them. When he tosses some holy water into a bag, he notices a couple salt bombs they made for their last hunt. They almost look like balloons. With a glint in his eyes, Sam starts making preparations for their last hunt at Freddy's.

Dean is startled awake by Sam, the other eagerly shaking him. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Dean sits up and glares halfheartedly at his brother. Sam has a couple bags packed already. He let Dean sleep in way longer than he should have. When he realizes this, the older hunter is opening his mouth to argue. Sam shuts it effectively when he hands him a balloon.

“Uh... what's this?” he asks.

“It's a water balloon filled with holy water,” he grins. “I have some filled with salt as well.”

“Awesome! This'll be great for dousing those animatronics. Now we just have to figure out...”

“Already taken care of,” Sam states. “I have arrows tipped with gasoline, just need to light them before launch. The bows are in the bag.”

“You've outdone yourself, Sammy!” Dean grins.

“Only one problem... Someone is going to be bait. And by someone, I regrettably have to choose you. I'm a better shot with the bow... and I want you to let loose that demon in you.”

“Hell no! Are you fucking insane?”

“It's the only way to keep them contained for the time we need,” he says. “Gabriel has already offered to help you back... as long as I go on a date with him. Please, just let it happen. I am _not_ going out with him without getting something in return.”

“It's called sex, Sammy,” Dean bites out.

The taller male sets his gaze upon his brother. With a silent curse, Dean realizes it's a bitch-face he's not used to seeing. It's the mother of them all. Heaving a huff of anger, the shorter male gives in. He unconsciously grips his arm, right where the Mark of Cain rests. He doesn't like being that man... that demon. He did a lot of shit he's not proud of, including almost killing Sam. There's no way he can go back to that. On the brighter side, if Gabriel has to kill him... at least there won't be anything left to come back. Taking a deep breath, he gets ready for the fight of his life. He's not sure how many animatronics are left to deal with, but he knows there's at least the ones they faced last time. Any others will be dealt with accordingly.

When the clock turns midnight, they're back in front of the building they loathe. They can already hear the giggles of balloon boy echoing from the doorway. Before they head in, they feel eyes upon them. Gabriel is standing behind them, eying the building as though it's done him wrong as well. Sam didn't tell Dean about his earlier conversation, too engrossed in making their weapons. At the sight of the trickster, he's reminded once more as to why they're here.

“You gonna stop us?” Dean frowns.

“No,” Gabriel sighs. “I want to help you. This place _needs_ to be burned.”

“Dean, Gabriel told me the game creator accidentally trapped some souls in his game. The electronic waves got tangled in their passing. He brought us here to help set them free.”

“He couldn't _ask_!” the older hunter snaps.

“I'm still learning I can do that,” the golden-eyed male murmurs sheepishly. “Typically I'm not well received.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

“I'm going in there,” Sam states. “With or without you, Dean.”

“... Seriously? You seriously had to make that statement?” the other glares. “You know damn well I'm not letting you go in there on your own, there's no need to get all high and mighty on me. Let's go, damn it.”

He snatches the bag from Sam and marches in, his younger brother in tow. It doesn't look as neat as it did their first night, leaning more toward run down and condemned. That little observation doesn't get by either of them. The more foreboding look has them tense and ready at the door, both hunters sensing doom upon the air. Before they step inside, Dean gives Sam a chance to walk away. It's unneeded, as he thought it would be. They're hunters, they protect those ignorant to these monsters... it's their job to walk into these situations. They ignore the security room, heading straight for the stage. Dean counted the moments they would have before movement, though they're not counting on them. The only consistent thing in their lives, is that nothing is ever easy.

Upon entry into the room, they pull out the salt and lighter fluid. Dean sprays the animatronics and the stage, making sure to coat it good, and Sam tosses salt upon their fur. The chicken blinks and they hesitate, only for a moment. Dean is quick to flick the lighter and set them ablaze. They hear the wailing of a child... but only one. As they set free the imaginary spirits, one real one is passed over. Sam frowns, brows dipping in confusion, and then he turns to Dean.

“I only saw one,” he comments.

“Yeah. Me, too. The others must be scattered throughout the animatronics,” the older Winchester sighs. “Get ready, Sammy, this is gonna be a rough night.”

He grabs a couple knives, ready to throw himself into the battle, and takes a seat upon the stage. The fire is dying down now that the spirits are gone, their metal shells melted upon the wood. Sam stays by his side, waiting for the next creature to attack. They can hear balloon boy laughing, his location hard to pinpoint from the echo, but that's it. Nothing else is moving.

“Should we move back to the room?” Sam wonders, bow at the ready. “I mean, at least we can see them...”

“I don't think so,” Dean frowns. “The only other animatronic in the first game is the damn fox. Do you think the others won't show up?”

“They're in the building,” Sam shrugs. “Worth a try, I guess.”

Carefully, they make their way to the security room. Upon the monitors, they do see the others... but they aren't prepared for it. Each one is staring up into the camera closest to them, as though they're looking through a window. The brothers shiver at the strange focus. None of them move, though, and that just makes it worse. Dean can pick out more than they faced yesterday, including the toy figures. The one thing he doesn't see, however, are the phantoms... which would've been more fitting.

“I don't think they're going to attack us,” Sam murmurs.

“Then we go to them,” Dean states. “I'm not coming back here.”

He moves toward the door, jerking away when it slams shut. The other one does as well, effectively trapping them inside. For a moment, they expect the air to stop in an attempt to suffocate them. Thankfully, the animatronics are programmed to kill them by hand. Sam and Dean sit down, glaring at the cameras. There's no love lost here, the hunters more than happy to finish the job. It doesn't happen, though. The doors keep them away until that annoying chime of 6:00 am. They're ready for it this time, each holding onto their weapons as they're taken away.


End file.
